


But I Do

by Leaveitbrii



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: As in general Washington sadness, Canonical Washington Death, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Minor Character Death, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 07:54:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6071224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leaveitbrii/pseuds/Leaveitbrii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emily copes as she usually does. Spiteful. Angry. Full of sass.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But I Do

**Author's Note:**

> Someone asked for angsty/fluff EmilyxMatt.  
> I've rekindled my love for Emily.

Emily’s heard it before.

Matt’s a nice guy.

She’s heard it from the cheerleaders on the bleachers, from the art kids in her class. Emily used to hear it from Jess and Mike but she hasn’t spoken to either of them since Mike decided to end it and waltzed into school the next day with Jess on his arm.

But she’s heard it. From Chris at old parties, too drunk to stand, draped over Josh who keeps the other boy standing, whispering softly into his ear when he thinks no ones looking. From Ashley in class when Emily can stand talking to her beyond monotonous greetings.

Matt’s a nice guy.

Emily isn’t sure how it happened, how helping their college’s rising football star with his chemistry exam became Matt coming to her apartment on days they aren’t scheduled to study. He brings her food when it happens, bags of groceries that keep her cabinets full and the fridge stocked.

Their group had fallen apart, pulled pieces of frayed strings snipped off. Emily wonders if their friends are talking because she hasn’t spoken to anyone since. She wonders if isolation is helping them cope with how bad they fucked up. She hadn’t seen Sam or Ashley but she’s seen Josh with Chris around campus, nursing a flask he hides in the front pocket of his flannel, smiling painfully at Chris’ jokes when Ashley isn’t around to hear them. Emily wants to say sorry but she doesn’t feel sorry right now maybe because she keeps thinking any day now Beth and Hannah will be found and Beth will punch her in the arm and call her a bitch like old times.

It doesn’t happen and she doesn’t see Josh anymore.

xx

“Do you like steak?” Matt asks, knee touching hers as they skim through channels on his TV. She came over this time, an impromptu visit because sometimes the quiet in her apartment is too loud. Matt doesn’t ask questions like Mike would, instead he opened the door to let her in and didn’t comment on the fact that her hair was messy and tangled and she’s wearing the same shirt from two days ago.

“Sometimes.” Emily answers, clicking the channel button again. A B-rated creature feature is on, flailing bad gore floating across the screen as a large snake devours a naked woman. Matt places a hand on Emily’s thigh. She sets the remote down on the couch.

“Do you like steak today?” Emily can hear the smile in his voice and any other day she’d snap at him but she’s tired, tired and they still haven’t found either Washington twin. Emily nods because she can’t find words and Matt squeezes her thigh lightly before getting up and wandering towards his tiny kitchen. Emily leans against the arm of the couch, chin propped up on her hand and continues watching as two people fight over explosives and gun power.

Emily can hear Matt rummaging around, pots clanking together, cabinets opening and closing. He’s louder than what’s she used to or how she used to be before. Emily’s been eating take out for the past few months so her kitchen remains dark and empty like the rest of her apartment, like her some days.

Matt wakes Emily up an hour later, a thin, old quilt draped around her. He’s smiling when she wipes the drool from her chin. The room is warm, smelling like pine and savory grilled meat. It’s embarrassing, her mind tells her, to be caught sleeping in someone else’s home. There’s a faint hum in her mind that says this could be home too, if she tried.

Emily doesn’t want to. Not now.

“How long was I asleep?” Emily ignores the way her voice shakes. Matt does to.

“About an hour. Hungry?”

xx

Matt’s a nice guy.

Polar opposites of Mike in every way. Matt is passive, charming in a dull witted kind of way. His hands are rough and calloused but they slide along Emily’s skin like they’re made for her, like she’s made for him.

“Should we-” Emily cuts him off, mouth pressing against his, open and ready, hands shoving at the smooth leather of his varsity jacket. She’s half naked, shirt gone, bra snapped with Matt’s fingers whispering into her hips.

“I’m on the pill. Just get inside me.” Emily hisses when Matt struggles to broach the questing again. It’s not her strong suit, sex. It makes her uncomfortable and queasy but it levels the playing field, makes boys do what you want. Emily doesn’t know what she wants from Matt but it’s only a matter of time.

Matt kisses back urgently, sliding a hand along Emily’s thigh as he hikes her skirt up. Matt slips her bra off, hands cupping the soft curve of her breasts as his mouth works against hers. Emily shudders, moaning softly when his mouth leaves hers to latch onto her neck, teeth blunt and wet.

It’s sweet, too sweet when Matt keeps kissing her skin like she means something to him. It makes her skin crawl. Emily shoves him back onto his bed, straddling his waist as she grinds down against him. She can feel it. The power high, the bottomless craving she finds herself consumed by. Matt stares up at her, eyes heavy and hooded, pushing her panties to the side as he fumbles with himself.

Emily rolls her eyes, clicking her teeth in a way that reminds her of her father. She takes his dick from shaky hands, lifting up just so she can angle it inside her, throbbing and hot. Emily braces herself on his knees, unable to stop the quiet sigh that escapes her lip when Matt surges up to kiss her.

He could be home. He could be something.

Emily doesn’t want something.

xx

Emily isn’t sure what’s wrong with her.

The first time Matt calls her a bitch during an argument, Emily laughs, tosses her head back and laughs in a way she never would have with Mike Munroe.

Matt stares at her like she’s insane. Emily’s beginning to think she just wants to destroy everything around her.

xx

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Emily’s never heard Matt yell. They’ve had disputes, tiny fights where Emily is the one doing all the yelling and Matt takes it, somber and quiet with a fire in his eyes that Emily wants to kill her. Emily smirks, arms folded across her chest.

“You’re being dramatic.”

Matt gapes, eyes wide and incredulous. His hands are balled into fists, trembling by his side. He exhales harshly, nostrils flared.

“I think I have every right to be. I’m your boy-”

“We aren’t dating.” Emily interjects curtly. She studies her cuticles, flexing her fingers in a way she knows irritates him. Emily doesn’t know why she does it but she likes the fight, likes someone hating her because she’ll have to like herself a bit more in order to counteract it.

“We just fuck and talk about nothing. You are nothing to me, Matthew. Not my boyfriend, not anything. You’re a stupid fuck toy.” It comes out harsh, vicious and brutal judging by the way the anger drains from Matt’s face. It’s not what she’s used to. Mike would fight back, he’d fight hard and almost as nasty and cruel as she was. But Matt.

Matt’s shoulders slump, tense jaw melting away into something weak, something soft and hurt. He shrinks back, tucking his hands into the pockets of his varsity jacket as he takes a step back, then another and another.

“You’re right.” Matt agrees, turning his back to her. He wanders towards her front door, tugging his book bag up from the floor as he goes. Emily falters, unfolding her arms, and she follows after him. Matt isn’t fighting her, he’s not fighting her.

“Matt!”

They’re halfway to the elevator on her floor, the soft stained carpet scratching at her bare feet. Matt doesn’t stop, instead he walks a bit faster and jams his thumb into the down arrow. Emily grabs his elbow, jerking him back.

“What?” Matt snaps angrily. “What? What do you want, Em? To insult me? To further show how painfully not your boyfriend I am? Got more guys from History to tell me about? How you fucked them in the common room bathroom? What, Emily? What?”

The elevator door dings open. Emily’s hand falls away, the sweet high she was feeling now absent and hollow like her insides. Matt looks at her expectantly, eyebrows raised. There are tears there. Mike never cried when she hurt him.

Emily won’t say she’s sorry. “Come back.”

Matt sighs heavily, rubbing his face as if it’s the most exhausting thing in the world. It’s what she is, what she’s always been. The most exhausting thing in the world.

Matt follows her back to her apartment.

xx

Emily sees Jess in the courtyard, hair done up big and blonde with streaks of purple that remind her of high school. She sees Emily, the beginning of a sneer crossing her bright pink lips. Emily wants to think it’s because of Matt that she doesn’t walk over and smack the look off her ex best friend’s face, that or because she’s watched Josh’s invitation five times in a row hoping it isn’t real and it hasn’t been almost a year since Beth and Hannah went missing.

Emily catches Mike’s eye as she walks, crossing into the library instead of the courtyard. To avoid Jess. Emily’s never avoided anyone. She’s getting soft.

“Hey.” Mike greets cheerfully, the same smile he gave her when he ended it and ripped the floor from underneath her. Emily remembers how petty he is, how petty she is and why they’re perfect together.

“Hey. Saw your tramp.” It’s habit. Mike’s smile wavers but there’s understanding in his face. He knows her better than most, knows more than she’s ever wanted him to. Love was weird and Mike was as vicious as she was. Future presidents needed to be dirty. He was twenty years too early for presidency but if he kept the bullshit, the eagerness, the sharp tongue Emily’s experienced, he’d make it.

“You look good.” Mike comments, gesturing with a smirk. Emily knows she does because she stopped eating about two weeks ago and works out to keep her mind from running when she isn’t studying. Matt had said she looked sick. Emily knows she does.

“Yeah.” Emily says instead of what she wants to. ‘Of course I do, take me back’ but it feels like growth and progress when she walks away from Mike feeling as if she’s won the moment.

Emily’s heart races when texts her later, too casual and friendly. Matt doesn’t ask about why her eyes are bloodshot when he comes over, doesn’t ask if she wants to talk about it or anything but he kisses her like he understands.

Matt’s a good guy and she hates it.

xx

It’s not Mike or Matt but he’s tall and built to last so Emily uses him until she feels better or until she throws up the tequila she’s been drinking all night.

Emily doesn’t remember which came first.

xx

“I’m just driving you to the airport, Em.”

“Okay? But you don’t have to. I can drive myself.” Emily says irritably, hands on her hips as she watches Matt load her luggage into the backseat of SUV. The trunk made more sense but it was filled with useless football bullshit. Her parents had called two days ago, asking her to visit, to be social with other snobby rich kids. 'Play the game, take the money’. Emily still didn’t know what the fuck that meant but she’s been using people since she was 13 and so far it’s gotten her more opportunities than she knows what to do with.

Matt smiles over his shoulder at her, straightening up as he adjusts the beanie he’s wearing. It reminds her of Beth, of Josh. Emily scoffs.

“Matt, please, just let me drive myself.”

“I love you so let me drive you.” Matt counters, words crisp and simple and he stares at her like he didn’t say what Emily’s been fearing this entire time. Her face must falter because Matt’s eyes light up and he smiles, wide and perfect.

Emily doesn’t love Matt. She can’t when she’s still chasing Mike Munroe through Facebook and Instagram, can’t when she’s harboring nearly a year of what ifs and “I fucked up, I fucked up, I fucked up”.

Emily stares down at her boots, Juunya Watanabe, too expensive, too much like how she is now, superficial, prettily dressed in black. Emily once looked up to see how much she’d cost on the black market. It was more than she figured but at least someone would carve up her body for something good. Or bad. Emily didn’t have a preference.

Matt touches her arm. “You okay?”

Emily nods. “Fine. Drive me to the airport but your ass better be there to pick me up Sunday.”

“Yes, my queen.” Matt smiles sweetly, leaning in to kiss her. Emily kisses back and it feels like she means it.

xx

“How’ve you been?”

Chris doesn’t call, has never called even before everything fell to shit but he’s calling now at 3 AM after Emily’s gotten back from her third cocktail party that night. She doesn’t know why she answers but she did, tipsy, lipstick fading and her mouth tastes sour.

“Okay. You?”

Chris pauses, “Okay. Next week is the party.”

Emily’s been trying to forget how close the reunion is. She can feel it under her fingernails, chipping away at paint, gnawing and biting like the winter storm from that night. Emily blinks, noticing Chris is still talking.

“Have you talked to Josh? I… I haven’t seen him in a while.” Chris explains. He sounds guilty. “I’ve been hanging with Ash a lot.”

Emily wants to call him an idiot, wants to tell him that Josh hasn’t been around because she fucked up and everyone is different. Instead she says, “I haven’t seen him. We weren’t really close.”

Beth and Emily are close, were close.

“Yeah.” Chris sighs. “Look, Em. I’m sorry I haven’t really talked to you much since… what happened.”

“We weren’t really friends to begin with.” Emily reminds him.

“Yeah. How’s things with, uh… Matt?”

Emily wasn’t sure but he’s texted her twice since she left for LA about how he watered her cactus and vacuumed the apartment for her. Emily sinks onto her childhood bed, unlacing the delicate straps of her heels.

“Fine.” Emily tells him. It doesn’t taste like a lie. “Everything’s fine.”

“Oh okay. Good.” Chris says distracted. “Uhm. Have you talked to Mike?”

“No.” Emily’s seen him around campus with Jess and a group of students she’s never seen before, a new set of friends, replacements. Emily doesn’t want to think about Mike.

“He wasn’t good for you, ya know?”

Chris is the only one to have vocalized what everyone had been thinking. It was a unanimous thing. Emily and Mike. In some aspects they were too similar, too different, brought up by the same kind of cynical, silver tongued group of people.

“Do you think Ashley is good for you?”

Emily can hear Chris’ mind whirr, the soft click click click of the hamster running faster and faster. The line goes quiet for a moment.

“I don’t know.” Chris answers softly. “But she could be.”

Emily understands that.

xx

Emily has never liked Blackwood, never liked mountains in general because she’s been afraid of bears since she was 8 and it’s the only fear she hasn’t been able to conquer. Emily’s not sure why but she can’t think about bears when Mike is actually alone this time when he scares the shit out of her and Matt.

It feels like years since she’s heard him laugh, the deep rumble of decade old trees falling alone in the forest. Matt holds Emily’s hand the entire time, talking in a soothing way that suggests he could fight if he wanted to but he doesn’t. Emily isn’t sure if it’s for her benefit or his own but all she can think about is how Mike is alone.

Emily tells Matt to go ahead, a bit more forceful than she intended. He concedes but doesn’t seem happy about it.

“Mike!” Emily calls after him, snow crunching under her boots. Mike turns to her, surprise evident in his face. He hugs Emily back when she wraps her arms around him. She’s not sure why she did it but it feels like a lid is bubbling under her skin and she just wants, wants, wants-

“I’m with Jess, Em.” Mike says, almost apologetically. “I’m with Jess and I’m happy.”

Honesty has always been Emily’s strong suit, hidden underneath the bitter bluntness of her words that she learned from her mother. It’s never been harsher, being told he truth, never been a more bristled drag against her mind. Emily wants to cry. She doesn’t understand why.

Mike and Emily. Not good together. Great together. Mike was happy, Mike was happy with Jess.

“Okay.” Emily finds herself saying. “Okay.”

She feels small, small and hollow and angry, fiery tears stinging the insides of her eyes because even if they weren’t good together, it’s over. Five years of her life were wasted on Mike Munroe. Emily doesn’t cry after he leaves her alone on the snowy path, snowflakes clinging to her eyelashes but she picks a fight with Jess when they’re all at the lodge and it’s the same thing.

xx

Josh’s party is a bust before it can even happen. Emily remembers why else she never liked mountains, no cell service and everyone keeps saying there’s someone on the mountain. Emily keeps the flare gun they find in the lookout tower, unable to keep the usual bite out of her words because she’s scared and of course this would happen.

It’s not until she’s dangling from the same tower railing, blackened deepness spiraling underneath her that Matt tells her how much he knows. He’s angry, so, so angry and it’s not the time, not the time when the fucking building keeps shifting lower and lower.

“You fucking cheated on me, Em!”

Emily realizes she’s crying, struggling against gravity and the thunder in her ears as she tries to climb up. Her foot is tangled in a strap, fingers bleeding and bruised and Matt won’t help her until she tells him. She doesn’t, doesn’t want to and she doesn’t know why.

“Yes! Yes! Okay! I cheated. I cheated.” Emily cries out, feeling the fight drain away from her. “I cheated..” and it felt like being buried in sand, but she doesn’t say that, can’t when Matt’s anger transforms into that dumb nice guy expression he wears. He keeps saying he’s going to help her. The world is shifting.

There’s a high pitch ringing in her ears that Emily realizes is her own screaming and Matt’s gone.

He’s gone.

xx

Emily’s seen monsters. In Bob Washington’s movies. In her parents fighting in the kitchen. In Mike Munroe. In herself. They aren’t the same as the ones crawling the walls of the mines. She keeps hiding, keeps ducking under broken boards and behind old rotting wood as she’s hunted, sniffed for, the rattling clicking noise she keeps hearing the only signal of how near they are besides the skittering along the walls.

Emily doesn’t know what they are. Doesn’t want to know but she keeps the flare that man gave her close as she fumbles deeper and deeper. The floor is stained with blood and dirt and rust, a damp, dark woodsy smell filling the air. Emily can hear distant shrieks as she proceeds. She thinks of Matt, if he made it. If he’s on the mountain still, stumbling through white woods as he hurries to find the others. If he left her to die.

Emily thinks she deserves it, knows she does when she finds Beth’s makeshift grave, her grey molten head left behind. It’s her fault. This is her fault.

“Oh god, Beth. Beth. B..Beth.” She does cry this time, overwhelmed and distraught. It’s all here. The long awaited conclusion to a year long question. Emily tries to wipe her eyes but the tears keep coming, hot and thick. Her fingers smell of earth, earth and regret.

It finds her there. In the mines, tall, gangly body lurking amongst the shadows. Emily considers not running, considers lying out to die. She can hear Matt’s voice in her head calling her a bitch for the first time and the way she laughed.

Emily runs.

xx

“Mike, put the gun down!” Sam shouts.

Emily staggers backwards, knees buckling as she hits the desk behind her. The barrel of a gun stares back at her, Mike’s frenzied expression on the other side. Somewhere someone is mumbling how fitting it would be for her to die here, by Mike Munroe.

“We don’t know if she’s infected.” Ashley hisses and she looks nearly as crazy as Mike does. Chris rocks on his heels in the corner, arms wrapped around himself, small and sobbing softly.

“M-Mike,” Her mouth falls dry and it hurts to swallow. “Mike, please.”

Emily watches the conflict work across his face, watches each option be weighed heavily in the face of the boy she loved for five years.

Mike doesn’t shoot.

“You’re not contagious.” Ashley tells her later after the air is less suffocating. There’s a worn notebook in her hands.

“E-Em, I’m so.. I’m so sorry. Y-You have to understand-”

“Understand the palm of my hand, bitch.” Emily’s hand connects with Ashley’s face, the painful snap echoing through the room. Chris doesn’t say anything. Ashley sobs quietly into her hands.

Emily doesn’t feel better.

xx

Emily stands outside the lodge, eyes locked with Chris’ who stands frozen where he is. She was the first one out, the first into the cold as the monster, Hannah, fought amongst other monsters. Emily watches Sam dart around the room and soon the empty spaces beside her are filled with Ashley and Chris and Mike.

Sam runs towards them, eyes wide with panic and Emily can see Hannah lunge after her, long arms swiping at the air. Their eyes connect, brown to milky grey. Emily wonders if she recognizes her.

Sam hits the switch. The lodge explodes.

All Emily can think of is Matt.

xx

It’s four hours until they’re released. One by one until it’s Chris and Emily left. He sobs beside her, knuckles white as he grips the edge of his seat. The police keep saying Josh didn’t make it, “wasn’t found” but they all know what that means. What they found. What found them.

Emily asks about the others, about Jess, Matt but she only gets distant, half assed answers that sound like accusations. Emily doesn’t tell them about the creatures, the wendigos. She feels tired, tired but soft, weightless like the explosion took all her bitter anger with her. Emily has a lot to repent for and more people to say sorry too.

Chris hugs her when she’s called back.

She tells him how sorry she is. Chris starts crying again.

xx

Emily realizes she loves Matt when he’s waiting for her in the police waiting room, bruised and bloodied but he smiles at her like he’s so grateful she didn’t die when the tower collapsed.

“I love you,” she says instead of 'hi’. It’s not like her very unlike her. She can hear Jess laughing in the back of her mind. Matt rises to his feet and reaches for her hand.

“I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> Anon, wherever you are, I hope this was decent. :)
> 
> tumblr: flowerkingofangmar (if you want me to write ya somethin)


End file.
